Timelines of Sorrow, Truth and Love
by HollowArtistWithTheBrokenSmile
Summary: A little one shot, from the point of view of Rukia, who describes bits and snapshots of the trials and tribulations of her life with Ichigo. A bit sad, a bit dirty, and a bit fun. Please comment, they are very appreciated! Enjoy :) IchigoXRukia Forever!


Timelines of Sorrow, Truth and Love

Rukia

I remember the first time I ever saw him. Ichigo Kurosaki. It seems so long ago, it makes me want to laugh. Or cry. Or scream. I'm still not quite sure how I feel about him. Ichigo Kurosaki. The man who reshaped my world into something that shines in ways I can't describe. Ichigo Kurosaki.

Thinking back, to the time before Ichigo's heart became sodden with rain, he was quite cheerful. Optimistic, even. Hard to believe, I know. The only reason I even believe it is because I watched this man grow, learn, and evolve into something spellbinding. Mesmerizing.

* * *

"Brother, do I have to?" I whimper at brother as sweetly as I can, in hopes of getting of it. We are heading to a nearby dojo, in my hometown of Karakura. It has been two years since Hisana died. I just turned eight a few months ago.

"Sorry, Rukia. You're not getting out of this. I know you like to stay inside and draw, but you need to get out, meet other children, become cultured. The elders of the family want you to become a sophisticated young lady, with an extensive background." I don't understand all of the big words, but I knew I wasn't going home anytime soon. We turn another waterlogged corner, and head into the karate place. Brother speaks with the teacher for a bit, before leading me over to the area for little kids, far away from the advanced students.

Many of the little kids stand at the base of a smaller version of a boxing ring, where a girl and boy in karate gear are getting warmed up to spar. The girl doesn't look like anything eye catching, but the boy immediately draws my eye. His face and eyes are normal, but his hair is an impossible shade of orange, something I have been trying to achieve with my paints for the past month, in order to paint Chappy into a pumpkin patch.

The other girl is obviously the better fighter, and looks pumped as the bell on the side of the room dings. She goes for him immediately, throwing out a right hook before I can blink. The boy seems shaky, jumpy, as if he wants to burst out of the room, out of his skin, and run for the hills. He tries to shield his face, but the little girl plants a kick square in his gut, and he falls, grunting as the bell dings, declaring the match over. He rips off the gear as soon as it's over, starting to sniffle as he shakes her hand. His sniffles turn to full on sobs as he climbs from the ring, the door to the entrance of the dojo opening, drawing my attention. She's beautiful. Her hair is that same infuriating color of orange, but her face is kinder, less harsh than the boys. As soon as he spots her, he dries his tears and sprints for her, giggling as she embraces him. What a stupid, weird, orange haired idiot! Who starts and stops crying like that so quickly?

* * *

"Ichigo, Ichigo!" I run down the still damp streets, hoping to go play with my new friend. Brother let me out of the house so I could go have some free time, and I immediately thought of Ichigo. I take the back way, along the marshy riverbanks. I am running so fast, I almost fly by. I catch my breath and walk back to him, where he squats in the damp grass, next the the swollen river that just rushes by. His knees are scraped, and his eyes are red. As soon as he catches sight of me, he scrubs his eyes and stands, and I wonder where his mother is.

"Ichi, what's wrong? Wheres Masaki?" I march over to him determinedly, throwing my arm over his stiff shoulders, looking out into the distance with him.

"She's dead." He says it so simply, as if its nothing. As if he just said the weather sucked, which it did. With no feeling, only finality. I look at his face out of the corner of my eye, and I see his tears. Not tears of getting punched, but of utter sadness and defeat. Betrayal. I sit us down, not really caring that my favorite purple skirt is getting soaked and dirty, not really caring about the scolding I'm bound to get because of it. He leans his face into the crook of my shoulder, and his little eight year old body shakes with the sobs of someone much older. I pat his crazy and soft hair, feeling my own eyes prick a bit. Masaki had been so kind, so beautiful. So happy. So alive.

"Ichigo?"

"Yeah?" He lifts his face and scrubs his eyes, and we watch the sunset over the water, as it paints the murky waters into fantastic colors. It almost looks like patches of blood.

"Do you think… you'll ever smile again?"

"Don't know." I think… I want to be the reason you smile again.

* * *

"Well, Rukia, looks like we're going to the same high school." He flashes me a cheeky grin as we walk home from school, acceptance letters in hand. I look away, sticking my tongue out at him, but secretly feeling relieved. Everytime I look at him, my heart pounds and skips, as if I'm scared. Or excited.

"Ugh, great, another year with Strawberry following me around!" I throw a quick punch at his shoulder before bursting into a run, giggling as he struggles to catch up. It has always been that way. One of us chasing after the other, hopelessly trying to reach the others level. For a time, I didn't mind. For a time, I found myself content with what we had.

* * *

"Oh, Rukia, I'm so excited! Kurosaki-kun asked me out! Can you believe it?!" Orihime twirls between the desks of homeroom, on the first of our second year in high school. She looks so excited, with that big, stupid grin plastered on her face. Sometimes, I really wanted to hate her. With that beautiful face, and a body that made everyone follow the sway of her hips. But other days, I would be reminded of how good she was, how kind and forgiving. Like how when all the boys in middle school called me, 'Ice Queen', she would immediately find my hiding places, and dry my tears, feeding me whatever food she had, or dragging me around town, saying and doing anything that would make me laugh. She is so good to me. For her sake, I cracked a smile, and embraced her.

"Really?! I'm so happy for you! When is the date?" I pull away and see the relieved grin on her face, and I feel my heart begin to splinter.

"On Saturday. We're going out to dinner."

"Great. I'll come over in the afternoon, and do your hair and makeup, help you pick out something to wear." Just keep the grin plastered on your face. Let her be happy, Rukia. After everything she's been through, she deserves love and happiness. For once in your life, be happy for her.

* * *

"Oh, Rukia! Rukia, it's terrible, I wanna cry!" Orihime runs to me as I walk down the hall to homeroom, on the last day of our third year of high school. Tears are in her eyes, and Tatsuki wearily follows behind her, with a slightly annoyed expression. Orihime throws herself into my arms and sobbed, barely getting out the story of how Ichigo broke it off with her last night, not even giving her an explanation. I pat her back and sigh, her tears soaking the shoulder of my shirt.I hate myself for the flood of relief and happiness that floods my body at her tear stained words. What kind of friend am I?!

"Well, Orihime, he's not getting away with this. I'll get an explanation out of him."

* * *

"Hey, strawberry! What's with you and Orihime?!" I catch up to him at the end of the school day, as he hurries to the back exit of school. He barely glances at me, just keeps walking, as if I am unworthy of his attention.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!" Just to help get my point across, I sock him in the jaw, and he stops, glowering at me as I let my fist fall to my waist. Even in anger, those eyes still make me shiver.

"There's nothing to talk about, alright? Some stuff just came up, and Orihime would have been in the way. That's all there is to it. Now, buzz off." He speaks as if I am a child, and it makes my vision blur a bit. What happened to the friendship I used to cherish so much?

"What stuff, Ichigo? Are you… leaving, or something?" My voice stops him short from his hurried flight, and I know I have hit the nail on the head. Square on, and with a case of dynamite. He turns half way to me and sighs, running his hands through his ridiculous hair, and it almost looked like his hands are… shaking?

"Look, in two days, I leave for America, to study medicine, and I don't need Orihime waiting for me, ok? I figured, it would be better for her this way. If I just broke it off, so she could try and find someone else to love." His words make me feel both angry and relieved, as well as repulsed with myself.

"Wait… you're leaving?! For how long?!" My voice screeches up two octaves in my disbelief, and I feel myself go red.

"For as long as it takes. You're leaving too, aren't you? To get a degree in Oncology? You plan on finding the cure for cancer, right? Big aspirations, for the girl I used to carry home in the rain when we were kids." I go red at his words, and he leaves it at that, slowly walking away. And I let him. Because I am nothing but a repulsive coward, in love with a fool that will not have me.

* * *

Ten years later

Damn. I've finally done it. This is me, graduating with a degree in medicine, specializing in Oncology. I want to feel happy, but I just feel hollow.

"You have done well, Rukia. The family is very proud of your achievements." Brother whispers in my ear just before the camera flashes, and I manage to scramble together a quick smile, before its too late. The man with the camera walks away, and Byakuya walks over to some medical associates, and I shield my eyes at the bright sun, wondering why they bother with these outdoor functions. The heat is getting to me a bit, so I remove my dark blue graduation gown and cap, flinging it to an attendant from the family, who I direct to take the gown and cap back to the car. He hurries away with no protest.

"Still ordering people around. You really haven't changed, have you? Always so stubborn and ready to take charge." This voice… it chills me with it's familiarity. Is it…

"Ichigo?!" I whirl around, the black skirt of my dress rising up a bit, and the sight before me is astounding. He is taller, his hair thicker and longer, and he wears… glasses?!

"Yeah, it really has been awhile. You look… beautiful." And you look so damn good my very bones ache with the need of touching you. I glance down at myself, thankful my high school body had developed in these past ten years. And grateful that I am not some innocent schoolgirl anymore. Over the years, there have been a few men, and even some girls. But I never felt anything like this. Weak kneed, tongue tied and shaky, as if my skin is going to expand and stretch until it pops.

"So… is Orihime here?" Damn it, don't act so conceited and childish!

"Nah, she married Ishida about three years ago. I'm pretty happy for them. Haven't really kept in touch, have we?" He chuckles and comes closer, loosening the black tie at his neck, and I notice the first few buttons on his white shirt are undone. Gulp. He chuckles at something, before closing the seemingly eternal gap between us, until he's just half a foot away. Six inches between my body and his. Six inches between me and love.

"Why so curious about Orihime being here?" He lifts an eyebrow, and I scoff, crossing my arms and trying to play it down. My knees shake a bit, but I will them still. I can't lose it! Not… not in front of him.

"Still silent and stubborn, as always. Guess I'll have to spell it out for you." His hand suddenly snakes around my waist, closing the six inch gap, until I could feel every plane of his body pressed against mine, his body nearly encompassing mine. Goodness, I feel dizzy. I shut my eyes, as if I can freeze this moment in time, to always cherish it, just as his hand grasps my chin, and my lips are sent into a whirlwind.

* * *

God, I'm so nervous. Ichigo is holding my hand nicely, keeping me steady, as we walk home from the restaurant, where we just had our fifth date. We walk down the street to my apartment, near the hospital where I am currently doing my residency, in the ER, for now. My eyes are still set on the cancer ward. We turn the corner, and soon get to my complex. Like a perfect and seductive gentleman, he walks me up the stairs, leaning in for a goodnight kiss. As soon as it starts, it's almost impossible to stop. I back into the front door, letting him press into me, enjoying the way he guides his knee between my legs, rubbing my heated and pulsing thighs, rising up my already short skirt. I push him away long enough to jam the key into the door, grabbing his tie and pulling him, enjoying the way he omfs! as I slam the door shut, hands already at the zipper on my skirt. He looks at me with hunger in his eyes, and I feel ready to give in. I guide him to the bedroom and we almost rip each other apart, touching me in ways I didn't even think were possible.

* * *

We lay on a soft, frayed old blanket in the park, our shoulders leaning against each other, just a few months after our first time. He ruffles my hair, and I scoff, making a squeaking sound in shock as he turns me over, straddling my hips as he tickles me, so hard my eyes and sides burn with tears streaming down my face. After the laughter and hiccups mostly subside, he lays down next to me, chin in hand, just watching me.

"What?"

"I was just thinking how beautiful you look." His voice is so sincere, it scares me. An involuntary smile tugs at my lips, and I look away in embarrassment.

"I love you, you baka."

"I love you, too." I inhale sharply at his sweet answer, and look back at him, to find his lips descending to my neck, one hand already down my shirt and under my bra, the other already up up my skirt. I laugh and shiver at the same time, glad we are under a secluded willow tree.

"I swear, you have no control! I really can't take you anywhere." I barely keep my voice from shaking as his fingers do something that should be highly illegal.

"You know you like it." His warm breath caresses my ear, and I let my hands wander towards his jeans, and he jumps a bit, chuckling darkly at my dirty nature.

* * *

"Damn it, Ichigo! How could you forget our fifth year anniversary?! This is important to me, how could you-" We are walking down the street, from our apartment, and I am screaming my head off, my anger boiling over and making my ears burn. He looks away and sighs, stepping in front of me and dropping to one knee.

"What are you-"

"I never said I forgot, I was just waiting for the right moment. You're always so damn impatient." He reaches into his coat pocket, and pulls out a dark grey velvet box, and pops it open with a click. A simple but beautiful silver ring, encrusted with diamonds, glitters in the street light, and he draws my hand towards the box, his lips parting.

"Rukia Kuchiki… do you want to spend the rest of your life me?" His thumb glides over my knuckles, and I blink quickly, to try and keep myself from crying.

"Yes… Yes!"

* * *

"Ichigo… Dr. Unohana says I'm pregnant!" I try to smile, and be happy, but I am scared of how he will react. He is reading a medical journal on the couch, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he looks at me, sliding them back up as he takes me in, not entirely getting it at first. Surprising, considering we're both doctors. He drops the journal to the couch and stands, walking over and towering over me. Fear is born in my heart and blossoms quickly, as he drops down to one knee, and lifting up my roomy sweater with his long, deft fingers, chilling against my belly, which is ever so swollen. He looks up at me, eyes shining from beneath his glasses. His lips smooth over my belly, and I sigh in relief, cradling my stomach as he softly embraces my waist. Oh, how good this feels.

* * *

"Oh, Rukia… you can't do this to me." His papery and lined hand grasps mine as the somewhat irritating heart monitor pumps out my life. Is that all our lives really are? A series of beeps and algorithms, breaking down our complexities and making them comprehensible?

"Ichigo, you know I don't really have a choice in the matter. But I'm alright, Ichigo. It's not like I've lived an impoverished or dull life. You have made it all worthwhile, Ichigo. You, and the twins. My life has been full and colorful. Please, don't be sad. Be happy that I have finally reached the next step in my existence." I place my hand on his creased and weathered face, tears finding their way into the folds of his skin, as if they are cracks or crevices, that lead into his very soul.

"But, Rukia… we've been together for so long, and I'm not sure if I know how to live without you. Not anymore." My face feels warm, and I feel tears run down my cheeks, as I scoot my frail body over and pat the sterile sheets that smell so familiar its scary. He grins past the tears, and his bones creak as he stumbles onto the bed, laying down next to me, interlacing his fingers with mine. They feel so warm. And safe. Like home. We lay our heads back and fall asleep, in the only place I want to be. With my sun, that melted the ice that was my heart and soul.


End file.
